


Rejection Crisis

by kat_fanfic



Series: "Tony gets backup" one-shots [4]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Angst, Bond Rejection, Gibbs is a dormant Sentinel, Gibbs to the rescue, Guide Tony DiNozzo, Hotch is a bit of an idiot, Hotch rejects Tony, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sentinel/Guide Bonding, or so they think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-01-13 09:47:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21242093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat_fanfic/pseuds/kat_fanfic
Summary: “Let him go,” he heard a male voice say, the authority sounding strange coming from what clearly was another guide. “No, Derek, I know you want to help, but you can’t. He’s in rejection crisis, another sentinel is the last thing he needs right now.”Tony shuddered. Rejection crisis? Shit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure 1: there probably will be more in this someday, but there's no telling when. So I'm posting what I've got and hope for the best. :)
> 
> Full disclosure 2: I'VE NEVER BEEN TO WASHINGTON I HAVE NO IDEA ABOUT DISTANCES AND IT'S HARD TO GOOGLE SO JUST BEAR WITH ME KTHXBYE

“Can I help you?”

Tony nodded at the pretty Guide Agent. “Yeah, uh, I’m looking for Sentinel Hotchner? I was told he was on this floor.”

The guide smiled at him. Her blonde hair bounced as she gave him an answering nod. “Sure, yeah, he’s right up there in his office. Come on, I’ll show you up. I’m Penelope, by the way.”

“Tony,” he murmured with an answering smile.

“You here for the liaison position? Your badge says NCIS, that’s sort of the Naval police, right? We sure could use someone with that sort of experience to smooth the way for the BAU.”

He glanced at her, a little surprised that she didn’t know why he was here. Normally, news of a positive match spread like wildfire. Maybe Sentinel Hotchner had a good reason to keep this on the down low, though, so Tony only said: “I have an appointment with Sentinel Agent Hotchner.” He grimaced. “One that I’m already two minutes late for, actually.”

“Oh?” She looked surprised at that. “Weird, Hotch didn’t mention taking a case, especially not one with military involvement.”

Tony shrugged, going for a noncommittal “hm” instead of really answering. 

Penelope shot him a look, one that clearly said that she knew something was up, but that she was giving him the benefit of the doubt. “There you are,” she said brightly, once they’d walked up a couple of steps towards a row of walled-off offices. The rest of the floor was open, with a bunch of desks pushed together right smack in the middle. 

Tony deliberately didn’t look over there, very aware of his audience. Apparently, Sentinel Agent Hotchner didn’t get very many outside visitors. “Thank you,” he said and gave the other Guide a smile, genuinely glad he’d run into her. It would have sucked to ask his way around with the BAU all eyeballing him.

Penelope smiled back and after giving him a jovial pat on the arm, she bounced back down the stairs, joining the rest of the BAU. He heard her admonish them for staring and sent her a silent thank you. 

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Tony tried to not let his nervousness show too much. There wasn’t much he could hide in a room full of highly trained Sentinel Agents, of course, but it was considered rude to use one’s secondary senses without probable cause. 

Raised voices made him slow his step. “I still don’t understand why you’re so adamant about this,” he heard someone say. A sentinel. 

“I don’t want a guide, it’s that simple, Dave.”

Tony stopped short. He was close enough to the door to be able to read the plaque on it, and the voices were clearly coming from Sentinel Agent Hotchner’s office. His heart sank.

“But why? I know a lot of people that would give anything for a full genetic match. It basically guarantees compatibility.”

There was a disparaging huff, and it sliced through Tony like a knife. “You think I’ll trust the Center with matching me up after what happened with Hailey?”

“It wasn’t the Center’s fault that she was unstable, Aaron.”

“There’s no way I am going to accept any guide the Center’s sending, and that’s final.”

Tony stumbled back. Pain bloomed in his chest, and he couldn’t quite catch his breath. The words repeated in his mind, over and over, and every time, it felt like a piece of his heart was being sliced off. 

Rejected. He’d been _rejected_, sight unseen. The only match he’d had since entering his genetic code into the database, and he hadn’t even been given a chance. 

A low sound forced itself out of his throat, and he was barely aware of what was going on around him. He just knew that from one second to the next, his world had gone up in flames.  
Somehow, he managed to stumble down the stairs, right into Penelope’s arms. “Hey, you okay?” she asked, grabbing his arm when he swayed into her.

“He,” Tony gasped. His vision was getting blurry, and he belatedly realized that he was crying. “He doesn’t… fuck.” Knees giving out, he sank to the ground. He was aware of Penelope shouting for help, but he was too busy trying to keep his heart from beating out of his chest to reassure her. 

When strong arms pulled him up, he recoiled and began to struggle. The strong almost-scent of a sentinel suddenly surrounded him, but it wasn’t _his_ sentinel, and it was so wrong that his stomach rolled. 

“Let him go,” he heard a male voice say, the authority sounding strange coming from what clearly was another guide. “No, Derek, I know you want to help, but you can’t. He’s in rejection crisis, another sentinel is the last thing he needs right now.”

Tony shuddered. Rejection crisis? Shit. “The kit,” he forced out, hoping anyone would understand what he meant.

“Of course.” Penelope again. “Derek, here’s something you can do. Get the Guide kit out of the emergency box in the hall and make sure that there’s a yellow syringe marked AX-R in it.”

Darkness was creeping in his vision. Tony moaned under his breath.

“Hang on, Tony,” he heard Penelope say, but there wasn’t enough air for him to breathe and he desperately clawed at his collar.

“This is happening too fast.” The male guide’s voice sounded almost affronted. “He shouldn’t be this bad so soon.” 

Tony jumbled thoughts ground to a screeching halt and in the same second that someone to his right said “shit”, he realized what was going on. “Primal match,” he gasped, feeling sick to his stomach at the implications. “Oh, god.”

His heartbeat tripled. The pain was radiating throughout his entire body now and he knew, _felt_ that he was only minutes away from a complete shutdown. This was what every textbook on bonding etiquette warned about – the worst-case scenario for anyone with the sentinel or guide genes.

A primal match gone wrong… it was akin to acute shock, a serious condition that in some cases could be lethal. It had something to do with open pathways in the brain being forcibly shut, but Tony had never bothered to learn the science behind it. 

This didn’t happen to people like him. Even if guides were more susceptible to the condition, he’d thought himself exempt. After all, he’d lived for nearly twenty years as an identified guide, stable even while unbonded, without any of the complications other people in his situation experienced. And yet, here he was, betrayed by his own body – or rather, his mind – unable to even keep basic life functions going because a sentinel had said no to him. 

He groaned, shivering with cold that seemed to radiate from the inside out, and then he was suddenly, inexplicably enveloped by warmth. This touch felt so right, the scent of Sentinel not repugnant this time, but comforting and oh, so welcome. Tony pressed his face into the warm chest, letting the strong heartbeat soothe the pain.

“Aaron, what are you doing?”

The words were like a cold shower. Tony froze. This was Sentinel Hotchner cradling him to his chest, the very Sentinel who had made it abundantly clear that he was not interested in even getting to know him.

“I am not going to let a guide suffer like this, not when there’s something I can do about it,” Tony heard that same smooth voice say, sounding very reasonable despite the chaotic circumstances. 

“Jesus, you’re an idiot.” This from the sentinel called Dave, the one Hotchner had talked to before. “You rejected him, Aaron, even if you weren’t aware of it at the time, and if you haven’t changed your mind about that in the last, oh, two minutes…?” He trailed off, clearly waiting for an answer. 

“You know I haven’t.”

Dave huffed. “Of course not. But you have to know that you’re only making it worse for him by sticking close.”

“If it’ll keep him stable long enough until help can arrive, then that’s all that matters.”

Reasonable and _calm_ as if Tony was just another problem he had to solve.

Yeah, hell no. 

“Let me go,” he gasped, heaving himself off that oh-so-alluring body. Pulling back required every ounce of strength he had, but he managed to do it, coming to rest on his haunches. He snarled a furious, “No!,” at the hands that were still trying to hold on to him, pushing them away.

Panting through the pounding behind his eyes, he gulped in a couple of deep breaths. His sight was clouded and all he could see was a bunch of blurry shapes surrounding him. “The kit,” he grunted, making grabby hands and blinking furiously. 

Slowly, his vision cleared, and Tony winced as he realized that the whole floor was watching him go through the worst moment of his life. They were so _loud_, their psionic chatter pressing in on him, stealing his own thoughts.

Penelope was kneeling in front of him. “I have it here,” she said, pulling over a small standard kit. It was already open, and Tony could see the syringe he needed right away. He grabbed it, pulled off the safety tab, and before he could think better of it, he lifted his shirt and plunged it right into his belly.

Almost immediately, his breathing eased and the all-encompassing pain in his body began to subside. The syringe was doing its job. “Okay,” he murmured, taking a moment to get his body back in control. His hands weren’t shaking quite so bad anymore, even if the unfiltered chatter in his head still annoyed him.

The syringe was a temporary fix, but quite an effective one. Still, he knew that his time was limited, and he needed to act fast. Tony ignored the commotion going on around him, trying to get his bearings enough to come up with a plan. 

The profilers around him sure didn’t make it easy, though. Questions rained down on him, most of them coming from Penelope. She was hovering beside him, looking pale and anxious, subtly leaning into the other sentinel, the one that had tried to help him. The male guide was on the phone with the Center, explaining the situation in far more detail than Tony was comfortable with. 

“Stop it,” he mumbled, wincing when his voice came out hardly more than a croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Everyone. Stop!”

To his complete and utter surprise, they obeyed. Even Hotchner pulled back from where his hand had been about to make contact with his back. “You,” Tony said to the male guide, “give me that.”

Obeying slowly, the young man gave him a searching look. Under different circumstances, Tony would have liked to get to know him better, him and Penelope both. It wasn’t often that he met other unbonded guides working in law enforcement. Though from the looks of it, they wouldn’t stay unbonded for long, not when the tall, black sentinel was hovering over them both, territorial enough that he had one hand on Penelope’s shoulder and the other at the small of the curly-haired guide’s back.

It hurt to see that, more than it ever had before. Squeezing his eyes shut, Tony pulled the phone to his ear. “Anthony DiNozzo here,” he said, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. 

“Oh,” he heard, a soft exhalation from what he assumed was the low-level guide charged with manning the Center’s emergency phone. “It’s good to hear your voice, Guide DiNozzo. From what I’ve heard, things seemed rather dire.”

“Yeah.” He was very aware of the sentinels around him all listening in, but there was nothing he could do about that. “They kind of still are.”

“Understood.” He heard the clackity-clack of a busy keyboard from the other end. “Emergency services are informed, and a Center team will be with you shortly. There is a buffer on standby, though none that is equipped to handle a primal bond rejection, I’m afraid, at least not long-term. But as soon as you’re here at the Center, we can-“

“Yeah, perfect, great,” Tony interrupted, wiping sweat from his brow. Someone had taken Hotchner aside and the distance helped clear his head a little, but he could feel the shot’s effectivity lessening even now. “I need you to do something for me, Guide…?”

“Ramirez,” came the prompt reply. “But please call me Ana, Guide DiNozzo. I don’t much care for formality, especially under these circumstances.”

He grinned a little. She was clearly trying to keep him calm. “Good to meet you, Ana. I’m Tony.”

“Heya, Tony,” she chirped. “What’s the favor?”

“I.” He breathed out softly. It was hard to concentrate, but this was too important. “I need you to formally acknowledge that I, Anthony Dominic DiNozzo, GID 156942, as of this moment of sound mind, refuse an involuntary bond.”

There was a sharp gasp from the other end of the line, and somewhere to his left, Dave uttered a soft expletive. Penelope, when he glanced at her, looked horrified, but to his surprise, there was nothing but compassion and understanding in the face of the other guide. 

“Guide DiNozzo-“

Tony didn’t let her get into her Center-mandated spiel about how precious guides were and how important his own life was, he’d heard it all before. “I have a witness here,” he said instead, seeking and holding the male guide’s gaze, quirking a questioning eyebrow. The younger man nodded after a barely perceptible pause and a glance at his would-be sentinel, holding his badge out to him unprompted. “Guide Agent Spencer Reid, GID 234756,” he said, softly, but loud enough for Ana to hear. 

After a moment, Tony again heard her keyboard go. He didn’t dare yet to relax, murmuring, “please tell me what you’re doing” into the phone. She did, listing the forms she was filling out. 

Tony looked directly at Agent Hotchner, for the first time since this whole mess had started. “Is she telling the truth?” 

The sentinel pressed his lips together. He looked torn, anguished even, and were things different, Tony would feel bad for forcing him into a situation where he had to more or less help a guide commit suicide by inaction. But Tony was fresh out of fucks to give and his own stare was hard. “Well?”

“Yes.” Hotchner sounded as if he was gargling with nails. “She is doing exactly what she says she is.”

Tony gave a jerky nod, breathing a little easier. A forced bond, even if it would save his life, was a nightmare he’d do anything to avoid. “I’m hanging up now,” he said, wincing a little at the mournful sound the young woman on the other end made. 

“Okay,” she said, voice thick. “Hey, Tony? Good luck.” They both knew that his chances were fifty-fifty at best. 

“Thank you,” he murmured. “You did good, guide.” He hung up before the first sob made it through the line. The phone he gave back to Reid, and then he sank back, half-leaning against the steps behind him, concentrating on just breathing and trying to ignore the stares he was attracting. 

Dave was the first to break the silence. He’d put an earpiece in and had been murmuring softly, voice growing increasingly worried. “There’s a pile-up on the 10th and the Center team got stuck behind it. They’re advising to have another dose of the AX-R serum ready, just in case.”

“I’ll get it,” Penelope and her sentinel said at the same time and Tony watched with envious eyes as he cupped her face gently and murmured, “Stay with him, baby girl. I’ll be right back.” 

Baby girl. Tony grimaced. It was stupid to be jealous, hypocritical even. He’d never wanted a sentinel before, had always been fine being unbonded, and now, when it had been dangled in front of him and then directly been taken away, he couldn’t help but feel the sting of being so close to a pre-bond – and a rare one even. 

He watched them, saw all their minute interactions. They felt strangely unprepared for what was happening, even considering that their bond seemed to be in the earliest phase of development. They probably had no idea and thought they were just a very close-knit unit. This really wasn’t his problem, not in the least, but they’d been kind to him, had wanted to help him… “Shit.” He glanced at Penelope and Reid, then focused on Dave. “D’you see what’s happening with them?”

Dave frowned. He was still on the phone with the Center team, but his attention was fully on Tony. He followed Tony’s line of sight. “Something you can tell me?”

Tony tried to order his thoughts. “Developing tri-bond," he said. "They should be in isolation ASAP.” 

He heard several gasps, and then a new voice rang out. “I told you there was something going on with them.”

Tony craned his head to see the speaker. She was blond and beautiful, in a no-nonsense kind of way. Totally his type, as women went. The most remarkable thing about her though was that she was psionically silent. Like, completely. She was a null, almost as rare as a high-order guide. She felt like a breath of fresh air. An aura of calm surrounded her, and on instinct, Tony strained towards her. 

“JJ,” Dave said. “I thought you had the day off? What are you doing here?”

The woman, JJ, nodded. She looked at Tony with critical eyes. “I do, I’m here to pick up Spence.” Her lips quirked. “Figures that you guys are trying to have all the fun without me.”

“Ah, but you’re here now,” Tony said, going for flirtatious. He still felt like crap but having a null here to cancel out some of the psionic chaos surrounding him was a greater relief than he’d thought possible. “Still some fun to go around, don’t you worry.” 

She smiled at him. “I can see that. Mind if I sit with you? I’m told my presence can be quite, uh-“

“Soothing?” Tony suggested, gesturing her closer.

“Yeah,” she said, sinking down next to him, “especially to guides in distress. I don’t quite understand why.” 

He shrugged, trying not to lean too close into her. “It kind of feels like a bubble of quiet surrounds you. You’re like a,” he paused, trying to come up with an appropriate comparison. “You’re sort of like a white noise generator, but for psionic energy.”

“Hm,” she said, sounding intrigued. “That’s a very succinct way of putting it. Spence just always said it was comforting to have me around.”

Tony lifted a shoulder. “Well, he’s not wrong. Hey, uh, you’ll make sure that they’re looked after, right?” He gestured towards Penelope, Reid and their stunned-looking sentinel.

She nodded, studying him. “Yeah, of course. They’ll get all the help they need.”

“Good.” Tony scrubbed a hand over his face. “Good.”

Some normalcy had returned to the FBI bullpen. There weren’t quite as many people surrounding him, and some Agents even had returned to work. They were exclusively normals, though, neither sentinel nor guide (or nulls), and most of them very likely had no idea how dire Tony’s situation was. He wished the BAU would do the same and just ignore him, but he knew that was too much to ask. 

“Is there anything we can do for you?” JJ asked in a quiet voice, interrupting his rambling thoughts. 

“Just,” Tony swallowed, sweat trickling into his eyes. “Stay close? I’ve sort of got to make a call and I…” he trailed off. _I don’t want to lose it_ was what lay on his tongue, but he couldn’t quite get himself to say it. 

“Sure.” She let her shoulder rest against his, her strength seeping into him, bolstering him.

It was now or never, Tony knew. The emergency team was still stuck in traffic, the second syringe was on the ready, and JJ being close granted him the closest thing to sanity he could achieve right now, even if her presence still couldn’t fully block out the feel of the anxious guides and sentinels around him. Fumbling in his pocket for his own phone, he pressed speed dial one before he could talk himself out of it.

He absently rubbed his chest, grimacing at the dull pain there. It was steadily getting worse. 

His call was picked up after two rings. “How’d it go?” 

Tony huffed, inordinately glad to hear Gibb’s voice. “It didn’t.” He was aware of the stares he got. Looked like even through the phone the other sentinels could somehow tell Gibbs’ status.

“Huh.” There was a slight rustle on the other end, as if Gibbs as shoving paperwork around. “Your sentinel not the punctual kind then?”

It hurt more than Tony had expected, and he hunched over, closing his eyes. _Your sentinel_. Shit. “No,” he forced out, feeling Gibbs’ sudden alarm. “He was here.”

“DiNozzo. What’s going on? D’you need me to come get you?”

His breath hitched, but for a different reason this time. “Oh god, I wish,” he mumbled, pressing the ball of his free hand to his eyes. Jesus, why couldn’t he have been matched with Gibbs? Of course, he knew why, but it still hurt like fuck. “He rejected me, J.”

The swearing from the other end of the line was forceful enough that Tony pulled the phone away from his ear, only putting it back when Gibbs stopped to pull in a rugged breath. “Fuck it all to hell. That’s just-“ he cleared his throat. “Christ.”

A sob was building in Tony’s throat. “Yeah,” he breathed. Next to him, JJ stirred, grabbing his arm in a silent show of support. “Um, look, Boss, I can’t really talk right now. It was a primal match and-“

“_What_?” The roar made not only Tony, but all of the BAU-Sentinels wince. “What kind of Sentinel-“ and then Gibbs stopped short as realization hit. “Ah, shit. You in rejection crisis right now, DiNozzo?”

Sweat dripped into Tony’s eyes, but he was trembling from cold again. “Yeah.”

“Goddamnit.” Something crashed into something else, and it sounded like Gibbs was pacing. “You got the shot?”

Tony nodded, even though Gibbs couldn’t see him. “Second one’s ready,” he murmured. “The Center team got delayed. Bad day for a Traffic Jam recreation.”

Gibbs hummed, sounding distracted. Tony tried not to take it personal – the MCRT did have an active case right now, and they were a man short. “There someone with you?” 

Tony heard the added _someone you trust?_ even as it went unsaid.

He hesitated only for a fraction of a second, but then he met Penelope’s eyes, then JJ’s. “Yes.”

“Okay,” Gibbs said. “Good. Stay where you are, DiNozzo, don’t let the Center team take you.” There was a click and then Gibbs was gone. 

Dazed, Tony let his hand sink down, staring at the black screen of his phone. “Sure,” he said to nobody in particular. “Will do.” He sat, and breathed, and tried to keep from shaking out of his skin. It wasn’t quite pain shuddering through him, but something deeper, more metaphysical. 

This was going downhill fast, he could tell. He couldn’t feel JJ’s warmth anymore, body going numb. He opened his mouth, tried to say something, to tell them to give him the second syringe, but darkness was creeping in and his tongue felt like it had tripled in size. 

He only knew that he was toppling over because firm hands suddenly grabbed him and pulled him up again, urgent voices in his ear telling him to “breathe” and “hold on”. He wanted to obey, to ease the panic in their voices, but everything around him had slowed down and it felt like he was breathing in molasses. 

“He’s slipping!” he heard someone shout, the words sounding like they were coming from underwater. 

Slipping where? he thought idly.

He was barely aware of someone moving close. A sharp prick made him gasp, but then warmth flooded him and he could _think_ again. Breathing through the adrenaline-induced wooziness, Tony murmured a quite “thanks” in the general direction of whoever had administered the shot and got a quick hand-squeeze in return. 

Penelope, from the feel of things.

He lay there for what felt like a long time, just breathing. At one point, a soft touch to his cheek made him jerk away on reflex, but then that familiar calming bulb of nothingness enveloped him, and he relaxed. JJ really _was_ soothing. He stayed in that strange in-between place for a long as he could. He could feel that the AX-R shot was working, but it didn’t quite have the same oomph as the first dose, and he was pretty sure that it would wear off a lot quicker, too. 

When he finally opened his eyes, his vision was blurry. “ETA on the team?” he managed to rasp out, groaning in relief as a damp, cold cloth was pressed to his brow. 

“Ten minutes.” It wasn’t JJ or Penelope who answered, but Reid. 

Shit. He wasn’t sure he was going to make it this long. Trying to deepen his breaths again, he could vaguely see what he thought was Hotchner pacing back and forth like a caged lion, only suddenly stop short, gaze zeroing on a point outside the bullpen. 

A millisecond later, Dave did the same, and then Derek. 

Amusement swept through him. He somehow knew what it was that had caught all their attention. “Gibbs is here,” he murmured in a sing-song. He tried to sit up, groaning as his muscles locked down on him. 

“Don’t,” JJ said, but he could tell that her attention was split. 

Grinning despite the weakness spreading through his bones, he settled on scooting up to the stairs so that at least his head could rest against the first step. No way was he missing this. 

“You’re…” Reid stopped, his head tilted to the side. He looked a little like a cocker spaniel, and Tony chuckled. 

Gibbs shot the young Guide a narrowed look. “Dormant,” he bit out between gritted teeth. “Yes.”

But Reid was shaking his head, still looking confused. “No, that’s not-“

Tony didn’t hear anything else he said, couldn’t, because in that moment, his senses flared wide open with awareness. He gasped, surging upright, trying, _needing_ to get closer to – his thoughts ground to a screeching halt. Gibbs, he needed to be closer to Gibbs!

He felt more than saw JJ scrambling away from him. Derek had grabbed both Penelope and Reid, pushing them behind him with a vicious-sounding snarl, and Dave had a hold of Hotchner, whose face was a twisted in what looked like pure territorial rage. 

And Gibbs, Gibbs just stood there, eyes locked on him, stance both defensive and open, signaling that he was ready for a fight but not seeking one. “I’m here for Tony,” he said, glancing at each of the BAU members in turn. “He’s mine, has been for a long time.”

“But,” Derek shook his head, staring at Gibbs as if he’d grown a second head. “You’re dormant, how-?”

Gibbs lips curled into a snarl. “He’s mine,” he growled, low and vicious, the words slicing through every sentinel’s senses like a hot knife through butter.

“He’s not,” Tony gasped, knowing, _feeling_ the truth in his bones. He fought himself upwards, working through the prickling sensation of numb body parts waking up again with gritted teeth. “He’s not,” he pressed out, “not dormant, anymore.”

“Shit,” Dave muttered, strengthening his hold on Hotchner. Good. The last thing they needed now was a fight between two sentinels. He didn’t quite get why Hotchner would feel territorial over him when he’d clearly rejected him, but sentinel dynamics were complicated and his head too cotton-candied to work right. 

All he knew was that Gibbs was here, was here for him, and the older man felt more like a sentinel than he ever had before in all the years Tony had known him. He tried to take a step closer, needing to be near Gibbs, but his knees buckled under him and the ground was rushing up to meet him. 

Strong arms caught him, held him up, pressed him against a warm body and Tony knew that warmth, that smell. “I’ve got you,” he heard Gibbs say and then he was burying his nose in Gibbs’ neck, groaning as that terrible hole in his mind was suddenly patched over with something new and warm and _right_ and he almost choked on the relief flooding through him.

“God,” he gasped, tears welling up in his eyes. He’d been so sure he was going to die and instead, Gibbs had come, and he’d forced himself online for Tony and they were so clearly made for each other, guide and sentinel snapping together like two halves of the same piece, and how could he have ever thought that Hotchner came even close to being a match when this existed-?

“Hush now,” he heard Gibbs murmur in his ear, felt a soothing touch at the nape of his neck. “Relax, Tony. It’s alright, I’ve got you. Just hold on to me until the Center team gets here.”

That, Tony could do. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let go of Gibbs anytime soon, not when the man made all his pains just disappear as if he was a touch-healer as well as a sentinel. 

“Sentinel,” he whispered, repeating the word out loud, just to be sure.

Gibbs pressed a soft kiss on the side of his throat and then pulled back enough to able to see Tony’s face. “Guide,” he said, looking as satisfied as if he’d just magicked a boat out of the basement.

Tony nodded. Everything would be just fine. Complicated and weird, sure, filled with questions and consequences of what they’d just done, what they’d started. But ultimately? Everything would be just fine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Typical Tony, to find a match the day Jethro’s sentinel decided to rejoin the land of the living. Apparently, Tony didn’t do anything half-assed, not even the things that were out of his control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jethro's POV, because it demanded to be written.

The churning in Jethros’ gut wouldn’t go away. The feeling didn’t surprise him. He’d been on edge all day, ever since Tony’s call to let him know he wouldn’t be coming in today, because he’d found a sentinel.

“I have a match,” the younger man had said, and a ball of lead had formed in his stomach. 

He had listened to Tony’s nervous rambles about it being sheer luck that had his match pop up here in DC, but it was very unlucky that it happened to be a Feeb. Not Fornell, though, thank fuck.

In answer, Jethro’d basically just grunted and forced out a “good for you” from between clenched teeth. After hanging up, he’d turned around and torn McGee a new one for not being able to crack their latest victim’s financial records, and had spent the rest of the morning pretending that this was a day like any other, that his heart wasn’t cracking in his chest in a way it had only once before in his life.

It’d only ever been a matter of time until he lost Tony to another sentinel. Knowing that didn’t help one bit to come to terms with it, though, which was a lesson he was learning the hard way now. 

He’d been lucky to have the years with Tony that he did, Jethro was acutely aware of that fact. He’d lost junior agents to bonds before. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time he’d lost a partner to one, but this, this was different. Because it was _Tony_ and the whole thing made something gnaw at Jethro and stirred something that hadn’t stirred in a long time.

Jethro’s sentinel had been dormant since the moment he’d laid eyes on the charred corpses of his wife and child. His senses had become blunt, his instincts to defend had dwindled down to almost nothing – still above a mundane’s, but far below a sentinel’s compulsion to protect the tribe. 

Something in Tony’s voice made Jethro remember the days he’d spent with Shannon trying to figure out how they were gonna _do_ this, him having come online as a high-level sentinel and her being a low-level guide. It shouldn’t have worked, but somehow it had, and their love had made the bond strong and resilient. 

The day it snapped, Jethro’s senses had drawn in, narrowed, pulling him into a sensory collapse that had almost killed him. Only his need for revenge and a well-timed left hook from Franks had pulled him out of it. 

He’d been dormant ever since. 

And now, something was coming alive under his skin, something that made his gut tighten and his senses sharpen. He growled under his breath. What a timing. He’d been working with Tony, an online high-level guide, for years, without that sparking anything in him, and the moment the man was about to bond…

The coffee tasted like acid on his tongue. He pulled a face, putting the cup down. Typical Tony, to find a match the day Jethro’s sentinel decided to rejoin the land of the living. Apparently, Tony didn’t do anything half-assed, not even the things that were out of his control. 

When his cellphone rang, Gibbs was in the midst of chewing McGee’s ass out, again, this time for not putting the clues together fast enough, biting back hard on the urge to tell him to ‘be more like Tony, damnit’. 

He stopped short, in the middle of his sentence, and strode to his desk and picked up after the second ring, noting the caller ID as he did. “How’d it go?” he said, inordinately glad Tony had called, even if his heart – or what was left of it – ached at what he was about to hear.

“It didn’t.” Tony sounded strained, breathy, and not in the I-just-got-bonded way. 

“Huh,” Gibbs said, shoving files, and documents, and crime scene pictures together into a messy pile. “Your sentinel not the punctual kind then?” He already knew the answer to that. Sentinels were a lot of things, but tardy wasn’t usually one of them.

“No,” Tony ground out, voice low. “He was here.” 

Jethro’s worry grew. Something was very, _very_ wrong with Tony, he could feel it. “DiNozzo,” he said, going for normalcy. “What’s going on? D’you need me to come get you?”

Tony’s breath hitched, and Jethro was on his feet. “Oh god, I wish,” he heard, even as he began to shove things into his go-bag. He could feel McGee’s startled and Ziva’s speculative gazes resting on him, but for once he didn’t give a crap that they weren’t working. His attention was on Tony, and Tony alone.

“He rejected me, J.”

Jethro cursed, startled into a crudeness he usually reserved for his boats. He pulled in a ragged breath, tried to get the wild fear under control that was threatening to overwhelm his senses. Jesus, he hadn’t felt this out of control since he’d first come online. “Fuck it all to hell. That’s just-“ he had to stop to clear his throat, something making it hard to breathe, to get enough air into his heaving chest. “Christ.”

“Yeah,” Tony was holding back tears. He could hear it through the phone, focused as he was on Tony’s vitals. Jesus, he hadn’t been able to do that in almost twenty years. 

“Um, look, Boss, I can’t really talk right now. It was a primal match and-“

“_What_?” he shouted, making his own ears ring. “What kind of sentinel-” Realization hit.  
Fuck it all to hell. “Ah shit,” he said, horror making his voice tight. “You in rejection crisis right now, DiNozzo?”

Ziva gasped, face going pale. McGee looked like he was about to be sick, but Jethro could spare them no mind, because Tony was murmuring a soft “yeah” into his ear and he felt like hitting something. 

“Goddamnit,” he snarled into the phone, throwing his bag onto his desk, uncaring that one of the monitors went flying. He paced over to Tony’s desk and gestured for McGee to get his SFA’s bag ready. There was no telling where this would go, but he’d do everything in his power to make sure that Tony was looked after. 

He stopped short. “You got the shot?” 

Tony’s nod was hardly more than a scrape on the plastic-encased speaker, but it wasn’t difficult to interpret. “Second one’s on the way. The Center team got delayed. Bad day for a Traffic Jam recreation.”

Jethro’s heart squeezed in his chest. If Tony needed that second shot so soon already… 

Shrugging into his coat a little awkwardly, he put both bags on Tony’s desk. “There someone with you?” he asked shortly, distracted by Ziva trying to get him to answer her questions. What he really wanted to know was if there was someone there Tony trusted.

As always, Tony understood without him having to say the words. “Yes.”

“Okay. Good,” Jethro said. That was something, at least, and hopefully it’d be enough to keep Tony stable until he got there. “Stay where you are, DiNozzo, don’t let the Center team take you.” Because once Tony was behind Center walls, there was no way he’d get access to him. They’d never let a dormant sentinel close to a high-level guide in rejection crisis.

He didn’t wait for Tony to reply before hanging up, trusting his partner to do as he said. 

“Gibbs-” Ziva started, but he cut her off with a sharp growl. 

“Case is still open.” He shoved the crumbled case file into her hands. “Get Jamison in interrogation _after_ you have his financials. Don’t bother me with details until you got a confession. If you have questions, ask the Director.”

Ziva stared at him, her mouth hanging wide open. 

“And what are you going to do?” McGee had stepped up behind him. There was a knowing gleam in his eyes that surprised Jethro a little. But then again, it shouldn’t. McGee had been trained by Tony after all and over the years, he’d actually gotten pretty good at interpreting Gibbs-speak.

“I’m gonna get Tony,” Jethro said shortly. 

“Get Tony…” McGee sounded stunned. The ‘how?’ was written all over his face, but he didn’t ask it out loud. 

Jethro shot him a grim smile. “Tell Vance it’s a sentinel emergency when he asks, but try to keep him from calling it in.” Theoretically, even though he was dormant, Jethro could call on the Center anytime he needed it. Getting to Tony as quickly as possible was no such case, however, so all he could hope for was to get there before anyone figured out his status.

He paused for a second, trying to gather his thoughts. He didn’t quite understand what was going on, where this sudden urgency was coming from. But Jethro had spent his life listening to his gut, both as a sentinel and as a mundane, and he wasn’t about to start ignoring it now, when every cell in his body told him to get to Tony as quickly as possible.

McGee had narrowed his eyes, but when Jethro met his gaze, the younger Agent nodded at him. “You’ll take care of him?” he asked, voice low enough not to be overheard. 

Jethro grabbed his shoulder, inordinately glad at this show of loyalty towards a man he hadn’t been sure McGee had any personal respect for. “He’ll be just fine.”

McGee nodded. He still looked worried, but some of the tension had left his lanky frame. 

Grabbing the bags, Jethro walked right past Ziva, once again ignoring her. He didn’t have time for her bullheadedness, even if her intentions were good. He’d seen her face, seen her horror when she realized that Tony could die of the rejected bond. But she’d have objections to what he was about to do, and he couldn’t afford to take the time to talk her through it. 

He saw McGee catch her arm when she tried to follow him, and amid their furious, if hushed, discussion, he slipped into the elevator. 

Jethro very deliberately didn’t speed on his way over to the FBI Headquarters. The last thing he needed was to get pulled over now, and even though urgency coursed through his bones, he managed to keep that from translating into a leaden foot.

Whatever had delayed the Center team was not affecting his route though, thank fuck, so Jethro made the short drive in a reasonable amount of time. His badge got him through security and his natural authority allowed him entrance into the heart of the FBI, the main bullpen. 

He’d followed his senses this far, knowing where to go because of the pull in his chest, the feeling at once unfamiliar and totally new. “Guide DiNozzo,” he barked at the first Feeb he found. 

The young woman shot him an unimpressed look and then pointed with her thumb toward the far end of the open floor, where a group of people were huddled together in a semi-circle. “Just follow the commotion,” she said, without inflection. 

She’d make a great NCIS Agent, he thought idly, nodding at her. The moment he opened the glass door, two, then three heads rocked in his direction. Sentinels, all three of them. Jethro paid them no mind, his full attention was on the man lying in their midst, propped up against a low step. 

“Gibbs is here,” he heard Tony sing-song, voice rich with amusement even as a pained groan forced its way past his lips. A young woman beside him tried to keep him from moving, but Tony was stubborn even when he was beginning to shut down. 

Jesus, Tony looked bad.

Stepping closer, Jethro was halted when a young guide walked in his path, head tilted to the side like a dog, staring at him as if he’d never seen someone who used to be a sentinel. “You’re-” the Agent started, but Jethro didn’t let him finish. 

“Dormant,” he bit out between gritted teeth, knowing the guide was picking up on his weird almost-status “Yes.”

But the man shook his head, confusion evident on his pretty face. “No, that’s not true. Not, not really – Penelope, are you getting this? It’s so weird-”

Gibbs tuned out the man’s words as his senses suddenly popped open, flared, and then all he could see, hear, smell and _feel_ was Tony. Peripherally, he was aware of guides being pushed back into safety, and of sentinels getting their hackles up – territorial issues were still a big problem, not matter how domesticated modern sentinels got – but Jethro paid all of that no mind. He soaked his senses in Tony, in _his_ guide, and fuck. He was an idiot. 

Because of course Tony was his, he should have known, should have been aware of what was lurking beneath the surface. If he had, he could have spared both of them a lot of pain. 

“I’m here for Tony,” he finally said, glancing at each of the Feebs in turn. “He’s mine, has been so for a long time.”

“But, you’re dormant,” a black sentinel with pre-bonds to two of the assembled guides said, shaking his head and staring at Gibbs as if he’d grown a second head. “How..?”

Gibbs lips curled into a snarl. “He’s mine,” he growled, low and vicious, uncaring that the words slicing through every sentinel’s senses like a hot knife through butter. Now that he _knew_ there was no way he would let anyone else even get close to Tony, not without a fight.

And then Tony was gasping out words, repeating what the younger guide had said about Jethro not being dormant anymore, and he’d struggled up and was standing on his feet, unassisted, as if his heart hadn’t been ready to give out on him only moments before.

“Shit,” Jethro heard another sentinel mutter, the one holding the idiot who had rejected Tony, and holy fuck, how many damn sentinels did the Feebs have? But all that was only background noise when Tony took a step towards him and Jethro was moving before he’d consciously decided to. 

When his guide’s knees buckled, he was there to catch him. “I’ve got you,” he murmured as he pulled the younger man close, loving his warm weight in his arms, his scent that, even buried underneath layers of sweat and fear and misery, was pure _guide_.

Tony shuddered in his arms, pressing his tear-stained face into Jethro’s neck. “God,” Jethro heard him gasp and in that very moment, their minds connected. 

It was like a flare-gun going off in Jethro’s very being. Everything suddenly made sense again, after years of monotony and solitude, after a lifetime spent only half-awake. The bond between them was instant, effortless and so very _right_ that Jethro had to bite back hard on the emotions trying to overwhelm him. 

“Shh,” he muttered in Tony’s ear, stroking the nape of his neck like he’d seen many a sentinel do with their guides. 

It was a novel feeling, to even think in those terms again. He had a guide, because he, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, was a sentinel. He almost shied away from the implications of this drastic change. 

Tomorrow, things would be very different for the both of them, that much he was very aware of, but then Tony made a small sound, and need and love and protectiveness rose up in him in a wave so strong, it washed away every doubt that might have been persistent enough to crop up. Every unforeseen consequence that would come of this, they’d face together. 

“Relax, Tony,” he murmured, tightening his hold. “It’s alright now, I’ve got you. Just hold on to me until the Center team gets here.” There was no real need for them anymore, the acute danger had passed, but after everything he had been through, Jethro would make sure that Tony’d be checked over by professional guide handlers. 

Slowly, Tony did as he was told, relaxing against him. His vitals were normalizing, that sharp scent of guide distress fading into nothingness.

The whisper was so soft, only sentinel-hearing could have picked it up. “Sentinel,” Tony whispered, both a question and a statement, need prevalent in the single word. 

Gibbs pressed a soft kiss on the side of his throat and then made sure to meet his eyes. “Guide,” he answered, his voice as steady and sure as he could make it.

Tony sighed and sank into him, until they fit together like two halves of the same being in both body and mind.

Everything would be just fine, now, Jethro knew. Complicated and weird, sure, filled with questions and the consequences of their actions. But ultimately, after everything was said and done? Things would be just fine.


End file.
